


Lightwood's Lit Plants

by devantsun



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland Friendship, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Parent Maryse Lightwood, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, POV Alec Lightwood, izzy is the worst of plant killers, kind of it's more of like...a greenhouse..idk man, no beta here we die like men, that is: regretting everything, that sweet sweet izzy and jace alec friendship, this is very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-14 23:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16051145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devantsun/pseuds/devantsun
Summary: The family-owned plant shop Alec and Izzy run is, decidedly, dying.Enter Magnus Bane, who's just as good at reviving wilting violets as he is at giving Alec a heart attack.





	1. Now Hiring

**Author's Note:**

> rated t for cursing because i can't write something without cursing i guess

Alec sighs. His breath curls like mist in the cold air, and he stares at it for a moment before realizing it is not supposed to be cold in a plant shop.

“Iz!” Alec calls.

Shuffling. Something is knocked over with an ominous shattering noise. If it’s a good day, it will be Izzy’s horrendous jaguar-patterned coffee cup, and not the fifth plant this week.

“Shit,” Izzy says, cheerfully. A plant, then. Alec turns his head to find Izzy toeing past shattered ceramic, giving him a smile. She doesn’t look repentant in the slightest.

Alec closes his eyes. It takes him a moment to remember his train of thought.

“Can you turn up the thermostat?”

“Sure thing,” Izzy says brightly, sweeping her hair behind her shoulder. She disappears into the side room, heels clicking on the floor as she goes. It’s frankly terrifying how many inches she can handle (even dance in), and it’s amusing to him to see the customers’ reactions sometimes. 

Alec goes back to gazing mournfully at the last of their succulents. It is drowning in mud. No matter how many times he bans Izzy from watering the plants, she somehow succeeds in sneaking water to the plants that she claims are dying of thirst. Alec has to wonder, not for the first time, why Maryse had thought Izzy should be “more involved” in the family-run shop when she knows absolutely nothing about plants, or how _not_ to kill them.

“Nepotism,” Alec mutters. 

Izzy’s hearing is as sharp as her eyeliner, so Alec really shouldn’t be as startled as he is when Izzy speaks up from the other room. “Are you calling me incompetent again?”

“No. I’m saying you can’t get fired.”

“That’s calling me incompetent!” Izzy pops her head out from the side room.

Alec picks up the last of the succulents, waving it in her direction threateningly. “Look!”

Izzy squints from across the room. “Looks fine to me.”

“It’s a desert plant, Iz. You don’t drown it in water.”

“Oh.” Izzy has the decency to look a little bit sheepish, this time. 

“We’ll be lucky if this one doesn’t die too,” Alec tells her.

“It’s not my fault all the plants are dying,” Izzy says. It is.

Alec, tactfully, does not say anything. He merely sets the succulent back on the shelf, sending a silent prayer heavenward. He hopes the god of plants is listening. If one such god exists. They’ll have to put an order for more; Alec decides at least one productive thing has to come out of this  
morning, so he heads over to their ancient computer at the front counter, shaking the mouse.

The thing is older than the building, probably, and Alec is intimately familiar with how long it takes to power up; so he grabs the broom leaning against the wall and sets to work sweeping up the fractured pieces of ceramic Izzy had left behind in her destructive wake. 

It was the remains of their desk plant, a little African violet that Alec had thought brightened up the desk considerably. Alec swipes a few crushed flowers into a pile of dirt and orange ceramic shards and tries his best not to feel like he’s burying an old friend.

“Alec!” Izzy calls. He looks up.

“Yeah?”

Silence.

Alec cranes his neck. He can catch about half of the side room from where he is; and yes, that’s Izzy, arms crossed in a stare down with the thermostat. 

“I’m coming,” Alec says, stifling a laugh at the image.

The screen is, bewilderingly, black. Alec taps it. Once. Twice.

“Huh,” says Alec, slow.

Taps again. As if the screen will light up. He silently wills it. _Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll stop hating Simon. Maybe._

Tap.

Black.

“That’s not supposed to happen, is it?” Izzy’s fingers fiddle through her hair. 

“Nope,” Alec answers, tapping uselessly a few more times.

They exchange glances. They both know already; it’ll be a visit from Maryse and more lectures. More. 

A beat.

“You tell Mom,” Alec says, childishly.

“What? No! She’s mad at me for breaking that plant in front of her!”

“She hasn’t spoken to me for months!” Alec points out. Ever since he’d come out...well. Even Izzy winces. She’d probably forgotten, momentarily.

“Oh yeah. Uh. I’ll call her.”

Alec takes his bittersweet victory and returns to his post, plucking up the broom again.

“I’ll miss you,” Alec says to the remains of the violet. The plant does not reply. 

\----

“I still can’t believe you broke the thermostat.”

 

“Shut up!” Izzy hisses, smacking his arm. She gives him a warning look, cutting her eyes meaningfully to Maryse, who’s only halfway across the room, in a deep conversation with the repairman. 

 

Alec is a bit of a petty bastard, but he’s not enough of one to tell Maryse. Besides, he thinks teasing Izzy for the rest of time would be enough. 

“Don’t worry, I’d never tell Mom,” Alec says, grinning.

Izzy looks torn between slapping him and thanking him. “You better not.”

They’re both still watching Maryse as her conversation with the repairman abruptly ends. She turns toward them, and it feels like her eyes lock into Alec’s soul as she begins the walk across the room. She looks pissed, eyebrows dark and resting low on her eyes.

“Shit,” Izzy says.

Alec has to suppress a laugh, even though deep down he's terrified, still fighting down his compulsive need for approval in the face of sky-high expectations. Perhaps laughing is his new coping mechanism.

\----

After a thorough chewing out, Alec and Izzy go back to working, albeit more solemn than usual. 

At least, it feels that way; Izzy isn’t blaring her god-awful mix of Kesha and Lil Wang, and for once Alec can’t bring himself to be happy about it. Alec is, decidedly, sulking; but he thinks he has the right, after he’d opened his mouth to defend Izzy and Maryse had snapped “I don’t want to hear anything from _you,_ ” and, well. Alec had stopped trying to please his parents a few years ago, after he’d realized he could never measure up to their standards, but that had still smarted a bit.

Izzy had been angry on his behalf, and the one-sided lecture had devolved into a screaming match, completed by Maryse storming out. Alec had felt sorry for the repairman, who’d interrupted to awkwardly ask for payment. 

“Maybe we should, though,” Alec says aloud.

Izzy looks over at him, giving him a _‘what the fuck’_ look. Alec probably deserves it.

“Hire another person,” Alec clarifies. It had been one of Maryse’s points; _Maybe you need someone else here._ Well, it had been phrased a lot ruder than that (a dig at how their profits had dropped in the last month, and how they clearly couldn’t handle the store) but it was one of the first times Alec was seriously considering something that had come out of a lecture from his mother’s mouth.

“Why?” Izzy raises her eyebrows at him. “We’re fine! We’re doing fine. She’s just being a bitch. Like usual.”

“She’s...right, though,” Alec is hesitant to say it, deeply unsatisfied by his own words. He rushes to elaborate before Izzy can open her mouth. “Not about everything, obviously. But it’s true that our profit’s dropped. Most of our plants are dead, or not doing well.” He spreads his hands, and Izzy follows his gaze.

Wilting, weak plants comprise much of the display. The only plants flourishing are the fake decoration plants.

“Fine,” Izzy concedes. “But how would another person help that?”

 _Someone else to stop you from watering the plants,_ Alec doesn’t say. “We could extend our hours, have another person to manage and clean the place. You know how crazy it gets when some customer decides to order a hundred bags of mulch. We can’t handle that kind of thing with just the two of us.” _And you’ll stop watering the plants._

“Alright, you’ve convinced me. I’ll put out the ad.”

“You will?” Alec looks at her suspiciously, unnerved by her sudden desire to be helpful. He almost asks if she’s okay, but he is immediately silenced by the fear that she will somehow change her mind.

“Yeah, I will. Don’t look at me like that.”

Alec isn’t sure what his face ‘looks like’ but he doesn’t question any further. He still feels distinctly thrown off. “Uh. Ok. I’ll get the store ready for opening. We’ve been delayed enough.”

Izzy nods, drumming a pencil against the desk.

Alec will regret this moment, but he only stares at Izzy a second more before he goes to unlock the door. 

\---

_California Girls, we’re undeniable, fine, fresh, fierce-_

Alec’s eyebrow twitches. Izzy’s ringtone never fails to irritate him. He’s tried to get her to change it, but all she says is that she stans Katy Perry; Alec has no idea what _that_ means and he’s not keen on finding out. (The last time he’d asked, he’d learned the definition of vore, which he by no means wanted to know.)

“Alec, can you get that?”

Alec looks over. Izzy actually has an excuse, for once; she’s up to her elbows in dirt, whistling  
out of tune as she repots a tulip. Alec does not remember giving her permission to do that, but all he can really do at this point is sigh, hope she doesn’t drop it again, and reach for Izzy’s phone.

“What the hell is this?” A familiar voice says as soon as he picks up the phone. He feels abruptly like this is going to be a long day.

“Hi,” Alec says conversationally.

“Where’s Izzy?” Maryse demands, instantly. He supposes this means he’s still being ignored. (Is this a plus? Maybe?)

“She’s busy right now. What do you want?”

Maryse takes a deep breath. “I want to know what the hell I’m holding.”

“And what are you holding,” Alec drawls. Izzy is going to owe him _so much_ for this. 

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” Maryse snaps, as if her tone is any kinder. “I also don’t appreciate your ad. Are you trying to get back at me? Do you think this is _funny?_ ”

Alec swivels in the chair, narrowing his eyes at Izzy. “I think it’s profoundly funny,” he says, for the sake of irritating Maryse. He actually has no clue what she’s talking about, but he has a sinking suspicion it has to do with Izzy and her surprising agreeableness the past few days.

Maryse splutters. It is very satisfying, until, well, the yelling starts. Alec yanks the phone away from his ear, dropping it onto the desk. He can hear Maryse’s tinny voice from two feet down. 

Izzy looks up from her plant. “Maryse?”

“What did you do,” Alec says, and it isn’t even a question.

Izzy opens her mouth, but Alec cuts her off. “No, I know what you did. Show me the ad. After you finish that.”

He picks up Izzy’s phone again, which has gone ominously silent. He flips it in his hand; the call’s ended, blinking red on the screen. Izzy will doubtless be getting a phone call later on. He can’t bring himself to really care.

 **Lightwood’s Lit Plants**  
Now hiring wizards to revive our dead plants. We will pay handsomely. That is, a few dollars above minimum wage. Come be our slave. Meet us for an interview at 2133 Fanord Avenue before opening hours, no RSVP required.

“I don’t know where to begin with this,” Alec says.

Izzy shrugs. “You never know, we could get a wizard out of this.”

Alec refrains from pointing out that wizards decidedly do not exist, because Izzy rarely listens to reason. “No one’s going to answer this ad.”

“You don’t know that. I put a phone number and everything.”

“I guess you did,” Alec says to that, because she could’ve gone with something like 1800- FUCK-MARYSE, so he can be grateful for that. He’s not sure when his standards became so low. “We’re not called Lightwood’s Lit Plants, though.”

“I wish we were,” Izzy says.

Alec laughs. “Why don’t you take it up with Maryse?”

Izzy grimaces. “You have a sick sense of humor, you know that?”

Alec grins to himself as he smooths out the printed ad Izzy had given him. He hands it back to Izzy. “Never make the ads again.”

“We’re going to get someone good. I promise you. Humor is a great lure. People are going to come _running_ to us.”

Alec raises one eyebrow, conveying more skepticism than his words ever could. 

Pause.

“Ten bucks we get a hot applicant.”

“Why would I agree to that?”

“Because you want to lose ten dollars,” Izzy says, fluttering her eyelashes. Damn her, she really knows how to get Alec in on her dumb bets. 

“I’ll win ten,” Alec says, decisive, and holds his hand out. They shake on it. 

\---

The first person they get reeks of pot. Alec has to inform him that no, their ‘dead plants’ are not weed, they are a reputable and legal business, and please prop the door open on the way out.

“Thought you guys were Lightwood’s _Lit_ Plants?” the guy drawls. His hat is flipped backwards. 

Alec’s fingers twitch with the compulsive need to fix it.

“It’s…” Alec trails off, looks helplessly at Izzy. She is busy trying not to laugh. Witch.

“Thank you for coming,” Alec says formally, though he means anything but. “We appreciate your time.” He kicks Izzy under the front desk. 

The guy finally seems to get the message, thank god. He does not prop the door open on the way out.

Izzy bursts into laughter as soon as the door swings shut. 

“It’s not funny,” Alec glares at her.

“It’s _hilarious,_ ” Izzy sobs.

“This is all because of your stupid ad.”

“I know,” Izzy wipes a tear from her eye. Alec’s not sure if it’s for theatrical effect or if she really is that ridiculously amused. 

“I hate you, Iz. A weed farmer.”

Izzy just laughs. 

At least Alec’s winning the ten.

\---

Six applicants come and go. Alec’s not sure how they’ve even attracted one, let alone _six_. Izzy seems unbearably smug about it. She’s whistling as she dumps tea in the- _wait._

“Izzy!”

“What?” She looks up from their singular fern plant, dark liquid still dripping from the cup. 

“What…” Alec gapes. He could almost _swear_ she’s a double agent from the flower shop around the block. (Valentine’s Valentine and Other Assorted Bouquets, which Alec thought was a bit of a mouthful.) There’s nothing she hasn’t sabotaged at this point. “What are you _doing?_ ”

“I was reading an article! It said if your plant is dying, you should pour tea on it. It has more nutrients.”

Alec squints. “Since when have you looked at plant articles in your spare time?”

“Shut up. So, can I go on?” She gestures to a kettle. It’s bright red. Alec doesn’t know where it came from.

“Sure,” Alec says. He’s not sure he cares anymore. 

Izzy dumps a quarter of the pot into the marigolds. They droop in protest.

\---

Alec, at this point, is not expecting anything out of the ad. Certainly not a wizard. The six applicants they’d had....well. One had flicked a smoking cigarette into the roses, which had gone up in flames. It had been traumatizing. Another had passed out at the front step. Alec had called an ambulance. 

“Mate of yours?” asked an officer.

“No.” Alec had said.

(He’d been drunk, apparently.)

And, well, Alec was still winning the bet. He had his eye on a gallon-bag of raw coffee beans. He could taste the caffeine.

“They say seventh time’s the charm,” Izzy says, optimistic. She is pouring more tea into the marigolds. It’s been four days since Izzy had started the ‘special treatment’ and they looked neither better or worse. Alec thinks it’s a miracle in itself.

“No, they don’t,” Alec replies. He shakes the mouse. The computer has frozen. Alec is just trying to order succulents. Again. 

“Well, seven is a magical number.”

“Whatever you say.” 

“Oh!” Izzy startles, and Alec jerks his head up. Tea is still running out of the kettle as Izzy stares; Alec spares a moment to cross his fingers for the marigolds’ well-being and follows Izzy’s gaze. The door swings shut, and then there’s someone else in the shop.

His mouth runs dry.

The man has dark lashes and darker eyes, framed by eyeliner that rivals Izzy’s; glitter flecks his eyelids and shimmers when he blinks. His hair is artfully tousled, and dark blue fabric clings in all the right places on his torso, tight around his wrists and dipping at his collarbone. He is wearing the tightest skinny jeans Alec has ever seen, paired with grey high-tops. 

In short, he is the most attractive man Alec has ever been in the presence of. He looks like he has walked straight off the cover of some modeling magazine.

Alec feels woefully underdressed in his presence, fighting self-consciousness as the man’s gaze sweeps over him, slow. He’s only wearing black jeans and a black button-up (Izzy calls him a lost cause) but the fabric feels hot on his skin. 

“Hi, darling. I’m here for the...ah...Lightwood’s Lit Plants job application, was it?” His eyes are still on Alec. Alec has to blink at him addressing Alec.

His tongue is thick in his mouth. He can’t think of a single thing to say.

“That would be us,” Izzy cuts in smoothly. 

His tongue unfreezes as the man’s gaze goes to Izzy.

“Welcome,” Alec says stiffly. Those eyes are back on him again. It feels like he can’t breathe. This is so unfair. The most attractive man he’s ever seen is right in front of him and he’s too frozen to think.

Izzy looks absolutely gleeful. Her eyes say _ten dollars._ Alec hopes his eyes sufficiently convey _fuck you._

“I’m Magnus Bane,” the man introduces, mouth curving at the corners. “I think you’ve run out of water.” he motions to Izzy’s tea kettle, dripping mournfully.

“It’s not water,” Izzy says, righting it. “Tea,” she adds, as if that explains anything.

“I see,” Magnus says. His eyelashes dip when he smiles. 

“Oh. I’m Isabelle,” Izzy says, belatedly.

“A pleasure to meet you, Isabelle.” Magnus’s voice is smooth, slides over the syllables like they’re something extravagant. His eyes land back on Alec’s. Alec’s throat feels tight. “And the handsome man over there?”

Alec is not one to cuss, but _fuck_ just seems to resound through his entire being. “I’m. Um. Alec.” He curses his own awkwardness, feeling a blush burn on his cheeks.

“A pleasure to meet you as well,” Magnus says, and his smile is sly this time. “I saw your ad yesterday…?”

This jumps Izzy into action, and she crosses the room to stand by Alec. They both attempt to look professional, like this isn’t the first time they’ve had a genuinely competent-looking interviewee. “We just have a few questions for you, then.” 

“Go ahead, then,” Magnus spreads his hands in an open gesture. The fabric on his arms drapes out with the motion. Alec draws his eyes back up to his face.

“Great. Do you have any animals?” Izzy inspects her nails. Alec has to refrain from asking just what she’s playing at.

“Will I be hired if I say yes?” Magnus laughs.

“Depends on if you’ll let me see them.”

“I have a cat,” Magnus tells her, sounding unbearably amused. “His name is Chairman Meow.”

“You named your cat _Chairman Meow?_ ” Alec interjects, incredulous. Despite his initial anxiety, this tidbit is enough to break some of his tension.

“Yes,” Magnus says. “He’s very particular. Spoiled rotten.”

Alec’s mouth tilts up.

“I’ll need your contact details,” Izzy says, pushing a sheet over to Magnus. “Do you have transportation?”

“I live a block down,” Magnus says.

Izzy looks to Alec. “Got any questions?”

Alec glances from her to Magnus. Magnus’s gaze is warm, heavy on his skin. It tingles, as if it’s taken a physical presence. “You don’t happen to run a weed farm, do you?”

Izzy starts laughing. Magnus looks a little caught off guard, but he laughs too. His teeth glint white in the fluorescent lights. “No, I can’t say I do.”

“You wouldn’t believe the applicants we’ve gotten,” Izzy says. “You’re hired.”

“I’m hired?”

“Yeah, why not. You better be a wizard, though,” Izzy says threateningly.

“Not to worry, dear. I’ve been studying magic for years,” Magnus says, smiling.

Izzy grins, cutting. “I like you! Come back tomorrow, 8 sharp, or Alec will have an aneurysm.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Magnus agrees. 

“I am _not_ that strict!” Alec defends, but Magnus’s eyes are bright and he shuts his mouth. God. He really is unfairly beautiful.

“Until tomorrow, then,” Magnus says, flashing a wink to him.

Alec’s stomach is suddenly reversed, and he flushes. Magnus just looks satisfied. He turns to leave the shop, departing with an enigmatic wave.

It had only been five minutes, but Alec’s left disoriented and feeling distinctly like he’d just been caught in the headlights. 

“Pay up, brother dear,” Izzy says smugly, waggling her right hand. 

Slapping the ten in her palm feels like a monumental loss.


	2. In Loving Memory of the Coffee Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec is drowning in paperwork and stupid bets by his siblings. Suffering is second nature.

“Izzy tells me the new guy was hitting on you,” Jace says, flopping on top of Alec. 

Jace’s head whacks on Alec’s collarbone and Alec winces, making a disgruntled noise. Jace just crushes him with more vigor.

“She’s a liar, and you shouldn’t listen to her,” Alec says. He’s always impressed by Izzy’s ability to spread information in less than 24 hours, though he really should be used to it. “Get off.”

“Somehow, I have the impression that you’re the liar here.”

“I did not come here to be interrogated.” Alec tugs at a strand of Jace’s blond hair. Jace hits his hand.

“I hate to break it to you, but I’ll always be in your business,” Jace informs him haughtily. “It’s my duty as your superior brother.”

“Superior?” Alec prompts. “You haven’t even asked Clary out.”

Jace rolls over on top of him to give him a look. The strain this puts Alec’s bones under is more effective than the look itself. 

“God, Jace. You’re so heavy. Get off.”

“I have an idea,” Jace rolls out the words, still staring at Alec.

“No,” Alec says simply, because his ideas always involve something dangerous or stupid. “Unless it involves you getting off my bed.”

“Never. You’re a comfy pillow,” Jace says, sticking his elbow into Alec’s ribs. He wheezes. “As I was saying-”

“-I’m not interested.” 

Jace grinds his elbow deeper. Alec thinks he’ll have a bruise by this point.

“As I was saying,” Jace says pointedly, shoving his face so close to Alec’s that their noses almost touch. “You ask him out, and I’ll ask Clary.”

Stupid? Check. Dangerous? Alec thinks so. This is another of Jace’s dumb ideas. Even if it ends Jace’s pathetic moon-eyes toward Clary and his stupid besotted sighs (and their ridiculous painful, _painful_ pining) Alec wants no part of it. This is a life-or-death matter.

“I refuse,” Alec tells him, only to shudder on an inhale as Jace digs his elbow deeper, which Alec hadn’t even thought possible.

“This isn’t a suggestion,” Jace threatens. Alec has to wonder how he ended up with two siblings that are just as prone to threatening Alec.

“No! I don’t even know him!” Alec protests, feeling like the conversation had shifted in a way he did not remotely want. (And Alec was right; for all he knew, Magnus really _could_ be running a weed farm.)

“That’s the dangers of love,” Jace lectures, going cross-eyed from being so close. “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.”

“Are you quoting Forrest Gump to make me ask him out?” Alec asks, incredulous.

“It’s a good quote!” Jace protests, defensively. “Our pact is sealed.”

“I didn’t agree!” 

“Yes,” Jace pushes his other elbow down. “You did. Come on! It’ll be fun. We can go on a double date.”

“That’s the last thing I want to do.” Alec is being perfectly honest. Jace and Clary would probably be one of those obnoxiously PDA couples. Having to watch them be disgustingly straight would be gross. In lots of ways. 

Shudder.

Jace goes for the jugular. “I’ll tell Izzy that you were the one who broke her science fair project in eighth grade.”

It’s the ultimate betrayal. Alec gapes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would,” Jace says sweetly, and closes the last centimeter between them. “You. Said. Yes.”

Izzy’s rage is the most terrifying thing in the world, and both of them know it.

“I hate you,” Alec says.

Jace grins, all teeth.

\---

It’s precisely 8:00 when Magnus saunters into the shop. He’s wearing a stunning combination of gold eyeshadow and a vivid orange silk shirt that sweeps gracefully over his shoulders.

Izzy’s suspiciously absent. She’s probably doing it on purpose. Conniving witch.

“Hi,” Alec gives an awkward wave from behind the front desk. At least sixty percent of his job is waiting for the computer to load. (Never mind that he’d gotten here at seven thirty. It’s still loading.)

“Hello, Alec,” Magnus smiles back. He leans against the front counter, eyes casually resting on Alec. Alec’s ears are burning. “Anything I can help with?”

It takes Alec a moment to get his thoughts to work-related, with that question.

“Not yet,” Alec tells him. “We start setting up shop in a little bit. I’m just waiting on this.” He taps the computer screen. “And Izzy.”

Luckily, Magnus seems to have an innate talent for carrying a conversation, which Alec most definitely does not have. “Is there anything I need to know?”

Oh. That was a good question. Alec looks up from the computer screen, flushing a little at having to make eye contact. It takes him a moment to think.

“Izzy is banned from touching the thermostat,” Alec says. “She’s also banned from watering the plants. Don’t let her fool you. Never let her water the plants.” 

Magnus laughs. Alec is a little bit in love with his laugh. “What is she allowed to do, then?”

“She can help out with other things, talk to the customers. Not one of them, though. He looks like a brown-haired Legolas? His name is Meliorn.”

Magnus’s smile is utterly charming. “Brown-haired Legolas? You like Lord of the Rings?”

“It’s okay,” Alec tells him. Alec loves the series, but he’s been called a nerd by Izzy enough to know he should be a bit more moderate in his love. (Legolas had sparked his gay crisis, sue him.)

“Just okay?” Magnus peers at him, as if sensing his restraint.

Alec blushes.

“I’m rather partial to the series,” Magnus tells him. “If you liked it, I have a few recommendations for you.” Is he? Asking him to the movies?

“I…” Alec desperately wants to say yes, but he’s suddenly paralyzed by Magnus’s attention, and all he can think of is the stupid promise Jace had forced him into. Luckily, Magnus seems to sense his sudden apprehension, and he leans back a bit, smiling. 

“Just let me know, darling,” Magnus says.

Alec bites his lip. “Okay.”

The door rings; it’s Izzy, breezing through with five inch heels. “Oh, hello Magnus!” She greets innocently, as if she hadn’t been conveniently absent for the past five minutes.

“Isabelle, good morning,” Magnus says.

Alec gives Izzy a look. 

“Drink your coffee,” Izzy tells him cheerfully. “You’re so angry in the morning.”

Alec resists the urge to strangle her. 

“I’m not getting that impression,” Magnus laughs. “He’s been perfectly civil.”

Alec thinks he could kiss him. Wait. No. _Don’t think about kissing him._

“Just you wait,” Izzy says, lowering her voice conspiratorially as if Alec won’t hear her from two feet away. “You’ll find out soon.”

Alec gets the renewed urge to strangle her. Short of doing that, all he can do in response is sigh and take a long sip out of his mug. It’s one of the mugs Izzy had bought to put next to the shop’s coffee machine. Why she has to purchase such genuinely horrendous-looking mugs Alec doesn’t know, but it’s something other than a Styrofoam cup, so Alec has learned to deal with it. 

Lowering the cup from his lips, he watches from his swivel chair as Magnus starts his survey of the shop. He’s slowly walking down the aisles, peering at the rows of dead plants on display.

“Goodness,” Magnus says, nearing the counter as he crosses aisles. “Your plants really _are_ dying.”

“We weren’t really joking in the ad,” Izzy says as Magnus bends down to examine the solitary green leaf that is left of the marigold plant. Bewilderingly, he has the air of one who knows what he is doing. Izzy and Alec trade looks.

“Can I water them?” Magnus prods the soil, retreating his finger when it sinks deep into the mud. “They certainly don’t need any more water, but in the future,” he adds when Alec opens his mouth to say no.

“That’d be great,” Alec says. It’s true that Magnus could be just like Izzy, an absolute _wreck_ at taking care of plants, but he figures there’s not much more harm that could possibly be done to the plants than what’s already been done.

“Your succulents are doing well,” Magnus comments. 

“They came in yesterday,” Alec says, which pretty much sums it up.

Magnus says nothing to that. Perhaps he’s sensed Alec’s gloom. Or he’s confused on how they’re making money in the first place. 

“We sell mulch, out back,” Alec mentions. “I forgot to say. We usually get a lot of orders for it, so we help load it for the customers.”

“You mean _I_ load it,” Izzy says.

“Yeah,” Alec shrugs. Izzy likes loading mulch, because she’s a freak like that. Alec prefers to stay inside and manage finances. “She usually loads it.”

"Oh!" Izzy exclaims. Alec jerks and almost falls out of the chair. He follows her outstretched finger; she's pointing at the computer screen, finally open to the desktop screen.

"Oh!" Alec echoes, pumping a fist in victory. (Yeah, not really like him, exactly, but it's impossible to be serious when the computer's finally loaded.)

Magnus looks from Alec to Izzy.

"Computer," Izzy says by way of explanation. She yawns, getting up to fiddle with the coffee maker. 

"I see," Magnus says, in the manner of one that does not see at all. 

"Here, I'll show you how to place orders," Alec says, patting the swivel chair next to him. Magnus sits next to him. He smells faintly of tangerines.

"It'll take a few minutes to load Chrome," Alec starts to say. The page loads instantly.

Alec squints. "That's...weird. Okay. Well, I usually order from...email..." The page loads frighteningly fast. 

Alec looks from Magnus to the computer. "This doesn't happen."

"I guess I'm a wizard," Magnus says smugly.

Alec laughs despite himself. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I would never!" Magnus holds his right hand to his chest. His nails are painted. It's kind of hard to focus after noticing that, but Alec tries anyway.

Still smiling, Alec points at their latest string of emails. "We work with another small business, a plant nursery, for most of our plants. We order those through email. There's a different website we go to for mulch orders. Our website's set up to take orders."

"How so?"

"Well..." Alec pulls up the website in a new tab, which is instant. Alec is starting to get seriously concerned, but he tries his best to laugh it off. "This is really weird. Um. Here; we have this online submission form that customers fill in for orders with a time, number of bags, and type of mulch. It's all routed to our email."

"Is there one for today?"

"I don't know. Izzy was handling the emails yesterday- let me check." Alec refreshes the email. He's instantly glad, because a new submission has popped up. "Oh."

Magnus leans in closer. The tangerines are mixed with lemon. It's a nice mixture; Alec has to refrain from taking a deep breath in. Because that's weird. He won't.

"That's in thirty minutes," Magnus says in surprise.

"Iz! We need 20 bags out back," Alec says.

"Huh?" Izzy looks up. She has dismantled the back end of the coffee machine. Various black pieces are scattered on the counter, and Izzy has her hand on the plug.

"What in the world are you _doing?_ " Alec demands. Tea in the marigolds is one thing, but his _coffee machine_ is another. There has to be a line. Somewhere.

"It wouldn't brew," Izzy says. "I think there's a hard reset button somewhere."

"That's with _phones_ ," Alec says. By god, his stress never ends. He glares at the stack of files next to the computer. Maybe going through some of the finances will make him so bored he'll stop feeling stressed. And he's been procrastinating on them, so it'll be a benefit both ways. 

That's what he tries to tell himself, anyway; he retreats to the back table with the stack and his mug, glowering at Izzy. Magnus waves in farewell.

"Well. Have fun. I'll go unload bags from the shed." Izzy stands, heels clicking on the tile as she yanks open the back door. Alec buries his head in his hands.

“Are you really going to do that in heels?” Magnus seems in awe, which Alec thinks is fair. If Alec hadn’t known his sister for twenty-four unfortunate years, he’d be in awe too.

“Yes,” Izzy says, smug. 

“That is quite the talent, Isabelle. Are you sure you don’t want help?”

“Nah, you should help Alec. The numbers are going to kill him someday.”

“I can hear you,” Alec says, because he thinks they constantly forget that fact.

"I'll save you from that dreadful paperwork," Magnus declares with a wink, settling himself in the chair across from Alec. 

Alec is not one to refuse help. He slides half a stack of laminate folders over to Magnus with a smirk. Magnus flips open the first of six.

"Taxes," Magnus remarks. "Interesting."

"I can take them," Alec offers, insincerely. There is no way he's taking them back. It does not matter how much he likes Magnus.

"Never fear, I'm here to help with your boring taxes," Magnus says with a smile.

Alec thinks he's in love.

\---

"What _is_ the matter, Alec? You look like you're in shock."

Magnus is more right than he thinks. Alec has been staring at the computer for the past twenty minutes. He has not blinked. He's not even sure what he's looking at. 

Surely this is shock.

"I don't know," Alec says. 

“Hmm?” Magnus crosses behind the counter to look at the computer with Alec. “Ah. The blue screen of death.”

“Death?” Alec says nervously. He clicks the mouse a few times. Nothing happens.

“What’s going on?” Izzy joins them. Alec’s too busy staring to tell them to give him some space.

“How old is this computer?” Magnus asks.

“Older than me, probably.” Alec is feeling the beginnings of dread in his stomach.

“Well,” Magnus says, looking the screen up and down. “This isn’t good.”

“No,” Alec agrees. He pinches his temple, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Izzy…”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Izzy frowns. “And you owe me dinner.”

“Okay,” Alec concedes. 

Magnus looks between them, eyebrows raised for an explanation. Alec sighs and gives it to him.

“She’s calling our mother, she owns this place.”

“She’s a bitch,” Izzy says diplomatically.

“She’s a bitch,” agrees Alec, solemn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is a super weird spot to end this and it was kind of a filler and i am sorry...i wanted to update today tho because i'm gonna be real busy for the next few days! stay tuned lol
> 
> \- hi new side note! i am not looking for critiques, thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> i had to resist from putting the main title as "Alec's Crops Are Flourishing" but his skin sure isn't clear from all his stress. poor man. it'll be the next chapter title probably because i have no self control
> 
> i never write serious things anymore djsdkjd
> 
> hi i'm so sorry for not posting anything in a bit but this won't be abandoned i promisee i have another 8 pages written and it's still ongoing! updates soon babey


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